Death and Sleep
by onewing
Summary: Hypnos and Thanatos talk while at the death bed of their last believer. A one shot.


Notes: Wrote this sometime a year ago, decided to go ahead and put it up. Of course, don't own the gods, merely Alex. This is just a look at the dying of an age.

Death and Sleep

He stood, as if guarding the pale, thin form on the bed. Night was washing through the window, day long gone, and far from coming again.

This was his time of reign, in the shadows of a sleeping world, guiding each soul to rest for the duration of the night.

Not this, not standing by the bed of one sick child, waiting wearily for the only one he never deterred. In all his days, long though they had been, he had never stood against his own other half.

He was no fighter.

In his younger days, he had been rather naive, a method of use for the other gods to get revenge on each other, though he had no malice of his own. And every time he had been caught, he had swiftly departed to safety, to Nyx, his mother, the goddess of night.

He was not a strong god, and had no methods of defense for himself. Yet, he had out lasted many a cycle of the world, longer then much of his brethren. Even mighty Zeus had gone to Elysian before he, and one other.

The world had changed, and had not needed them with the rise of a new faith, Christianity, and a new God, older than they.

Yet, they had lingered, the last of a dead world. Held by the heart of one simple child, who was deemed to die that night.

So he stood watch, knowing, feeling his twin coming, and waiting to stop him. It was not the fear of moving on, when the boy died, that made him do such a thing. Like another little mortal so long ago, when the world was younger, he had grown fond of him. More fond than he should have.

A soft sigh, he glanced to the delicate youth. He looked so fragile, in the darkness of the world. The disease had not been kind, had stripped the muscle from his body, bit by bit, then any little fat that had been left had disappeared as well.

The boy had been strong once. Had been able to run and play with his schoolmates. He had been fond of baseball, or so the god believed it to be called. He only knew he had brought many a dream of it to the boy, and had been amused by how they had formed within the child's mind, becoming grand, with large stadiums that reminded the god of Rome so long ago, and the roar of a thousand people.

Alex, was the boy's name. Not Alexander, though he shared a bit of spirit with that one. This little one didn't have the lust of world conquest that that great prince had, but they had both wanted great things.

Though, unlike Alexander, Alex most likely wouldn't see such great things come to be. The god knew he could possibly sway Death from coming for a bit longer, but he could not stop the disease, even if he could ease the boy's suffering.

As he had that night. He had settled his gentle hand on the boy's eyes, even as the other cried, unable to sleep due the pain. He had granted it, for as Hypnos, sleep was his domain, was his being, and he gave his gift freely.

Another hour had gone.

It wouldn't be long, he knew. His other half, his older twin, always arrived on time. Death was never late, or early. Though, he did not follow the time of mortals, but of the gods.

The air was growing chill, and the vague scent of ashes was in the air now. Hypnos straightened, hand lying protectively on the boy's head, tangled into dull golden strands, as he waited.

Thanatos had come.

In the shadows, he saw him, could make him out easily, despite how he blended in so well, with his black cloak, that covered everything in thick obsidian. Even his face was lost in the depths of the hood, though Hypnos knew his twin's continence perfectly. Knew those black eyes were meeting his own ever changing ones, focusing intently, questioning why he was there.

For Hypnos did not linger, as Death did not.

Many had stood before Thanatos before, to stop him. And once or twice, he had been stopped a brief time. Even proud Hercules had stood in his path, and had wrestled him for the soul that had been his to claim. Though, in the end, it had saved neither that soul or that hero, he had merely had to wait longer then. Death was patient, especially peaceful Death.

But never had the twins faced off on such a disagreement. Hypnos had done his part, and Thanatos as well, never to cross paths in their work, though they now dwelled together in the Underworld, being of the last.

"Hypnos..." the voice, cold as the air around them, drifted to him like smoke, "Why are you here?"

The younger god knew not what to say, now faced with his twin.

Why was such a loaded question, one he wasn't sure he wanted to answer. There was so many reasons against, rather than for.

Yet...

"He's the last, Than," it was an appeal for their own lives, and he would make it familiar with just that affectionate name, "When he goes, we will have to as well, like all before us has."

Thanatos approached, sword clinking at his side, under the robe, as a bone white hand reached up, lightly tugging down the hood. Those pupiless black eyes never looked so empty, yet so full with the world's ages, "So he is. But I fear not Elysian, do you, brother? I know we both tire of this world, and are no longer needed. Why prolong it, and this little one's suffering?"

Ice like though Death was, he was ever compassionate, his role to end suffering his highest goal. Hypnos knew this well, and knew that this child would not be thrown to Torment. He was to come with them.

Still, he hesitated, "I do not fear Elysian. I miss our mother, our siblings. I miss the world we once knew. But this child is meant for so much more... He is strong, he can recover."

"He cannot," the words were final, like the ending of the world that would come, "You do not feel the sickness as I do, little brother. Strong through his spirit is, his body is weak. He has suffered long, and you beg to let him suffer more, before he can have rest. As the last, one would think you would wish to give reward to a faithful believer, rather than torment him."

"I do wish to. He alone, remembers the old faith, remembers the old ways of the world. He remembers Greece, and he remembers her gods, though he has never seen either. He is such a marvel, in this rapidly changing world," Hypnos sighed, looking to the child under his hand, studying that bony face, that belonged to a boy of no more then thirteen.

A humble boy, with a spirit that was old in its ways, burdened with a past that did not belong to him, yet that he had accepted and learned with an open, eager heart. A treasure, in a world that only looked ahead, and never behind.

"Let him die, Hypnos," lifeless skin, the cold of the grave touched his shoulders, before encircling his waist, "Let me have him. He is mine now. He would welcome my embrace, as you do."

The god of sleep couldn't help but lean into that enclosure of arms, his warmth mingling with his brother's chill. The familiarity lulled him, comforted him, eased fears and drowned out doubts. His elder sibling held such power over him, as no other god had ever managed, not even his once beloved wife Pasithea, who had been of the Graces.

This time though... This time, he could not let himself be pulled into that ease, that almost hypnotic feel of safety, and want to relinquish to his twin's supposed wisdom. He could not dare fall to such this time.

"He would not. He wishes to live, Thanatos. He wishes to live, and teach, and learn. He does not wish to have it stripped from him, even by you, who he has adored many a long year. I will not relinquish my hold on him," he pulled away, separating himself from his beloved's grip.

There was the flutter of wings behind him, and he glanced behind, vaguely startled to see his brother in his full form, beautiful, and terrifying in his glory. Forever youthful, with eyes of darkness, and face carved as if from an elegant statue made flesh, he was perfect. The great black wings behind him, only enhanced the image, and to finish it, the silver sword in his hand seemed to shine with the light of dying souls.

"I will not be denied this time. Not even by you, my other half. We have lingered long, Hypnos, far longer then the rest of our kind. This child shackles us here, with his fragile beliefs in those that had gone on already. In us, who should have left as well, trailing the path as Zeus, or Hera, or even great Nyx our mother did. I tire, as I know you do. Let me take him," never before, had Hypnos ever seen such emotion spring from his twin.

Desperation, and the weight of ages, had finally marked Death, in ways all else had not.

And even as that sword's point came to rest in front of him, he stood his ground. His brother could not hurt him, for his power only affected mortals. Not immortals, who could not die. At least, not the way that mortals did.

"Must we stay?" he finally asked, soft, and vaguely troubled.

Neither of them had questioned it before. Had never really thought of why the boy's simple faith kept them chained, where it had not any others. For the boy did not just love them, but loved many among the rest. Yet, they had not stayed. Only he, and his twin.

Thanatos paused then, unknowing of the answer. His sword lowered, as he thought, his wings ruffling a bit behind him. And in the twilight of the world, they both realized they did not have to. It had just never occurred to them that they did not.

"No," Thanatos finally said out loud, awe and defeat in his tone.

Hypnos nodded then, and smiled a small bit, "Then leave, dearest brother."

That caused another new emotion to stir within that face, confusion, where wisdom and knowledge of all usually dwelt, "Alone?"

"I wish to stay, and watch, to see if he will live," the smallest shrug, a roll of white clad shoulders.

"We have never been separated," Death protested, for they never had been, not as the younger suggested.

"It is only for a time. And should the boy die, a shorter time yet. Hand me your sword, dearest, and need if he does pass without your guidance, I shall bring him with me, and lock Elysium behind us," Hypnos offered, though his heart trembled at the thought of being so alone.

There was a clink, as the sword was shoved back into its sheath. The child stirred, but did not wake, even as Thanatos's robes rustled, moving forth to hide the weapon once more.

"No," slender fingers, with the strength of the inescapable, closed about Hypnos's golden wrist, pulling him forward, till devouring blackness looked into the depths of ever changing pools, that shimmered from blue to green, to white, and so on, "We go together, or we go not at all. We will ask the boy, to decide his fate. He alone, among all the mortals I have taken, will have this chance. It will be his gift, as the last."

Surprise marred Hypnos's own features, the mirror of his twin's, though far more alive in color and softened with love. He had never heard such a suggestion from his older brother, but he did not reject it. It seemed fairest, to let the boy decide his own destiny, in the end.

Breaking the grasp, he nodded, and turned. It seemed almost a signal, as his own wings unfurled from the magic that kept them secret, the whiteness of them seeming to light the room, as he tucked aside a bit of long, white hair. He was his brother's mirror, in all ways, just as had been gifted to them from birth.

Reaching out, he once more laid his hand upon the boy's forehead, as he leaned forward a little, "Alex?"

Though he induced sleep, he could wake dreamers when he pleased. He did not have to wait long for his summons to be heard, and for the child to stir under his touch.

Eyes the color of summer green grass opened, and blinked, dulled from pain, but aware. Looking up, it seemed to take a moment for the boy to understand what he was seeing, And only after looking at him thoroughly, did he smile, as if the god before him was a dear friend.

"My lord Hypnos..." he breathed, in wonder, but no fear. He knew, with all the assuredness of a true believer.

Hypnos could only smile, touched, as he caressed those slightly oily strands, tenderness in his every touch, "Hello, Alex."

The boy seemed almost thrilled that the god knew his name, before his gaze shifted, to the silent specter behind him. For a moment, the living and Death looked at each other, neither wavering in their gazes.

Finally, Alex smiled once more, "My lord Thanatos. I must be blessed indeed, to have the sons of Nyx at my bed side."

"We wish you to answer a question, child," Thanatos spoke then, not giving acknowledgment to the praise. Such things were useless to Death's ears, as prayers were.

The boy was unmoved, merely grinned, "Ask of me anything."

"Do you wish to live, or die?" the question was almost ruthless, and Hypnos himself would have winced had he not been used to his brother's ways.

The child was silent for a long time, gaze thoughtful, eye lids falling half shut over those bright eyes, though, his smile never wavered, even if it faded a little. When he answered, it was with a knowledge that was beyond his few years, "I wish to live, lord. I know you only take the souls of those that die, but I wish to fight, to live, though I suffer. One cannot do anything when dead, but follow you to the edges of the world. I am not ready for that path, when I have so much more to learn, and understand. Please, forgive me for sounding ungrateful. That you would come to me, both of you, you who I have cherished most in my belief, almost above Zeus or Nyx, shows me all the more that I must live."

That stilled both gods, and they looked to each other, stunned by such words from one so young. Eventually, Hypnos managed to move past it, and leaned in once more, to press his lips to boy's forehead, "Then live, little Alex. Live and do not forget. For though we now fade from this world, you carry our lives within."

There was a break in the child's seriousness, and he looked almost a bit fearful, "Why do you fade?"

"We are the last," Hypnos said softly, straightening once more, as his hand slipped from the boy's hair, "We have waited long, to rejoin with our kind. We had thought we stayed for you, when I believe we merely wished to think it so. We believed duty bound us here, when it was merely the clinging of something familiar. You are all that is left, that believes in the old ways, though they have been long swept away. That does not mean you must lose faith, though the last of the gods you have loved so well cross beyond."

"All the more, you must cling to your beliefs, even if your views change, and perhaps your gods do," Thanatos approached, pale hand reaching into the depths of his robes, to withdraw a delicate glass ball, "Belief, is the strongest power left in this world. Only it has saved you from me this night. When not even my brother's pleading has."

He gently handed over the trinket to the boy, who looked at it intently, studying the tiny black butterfly trapped within, its wings seeming to shine in the vague dawn light.

"This, shall guide you, when you believe the time has come. As the last, with only the faintest drop of godling blood in you, passed from Hercules, who gained it from Zeus, you indeed, are all that remains of our time. You will be the last to enter Elysium, and this will be your key, with which to enter, should you hold fast to your faith," Death continued.

Again, that curious shock, "I am of Hercules's line?"

Hypnos could not help but be amused. For all the child's knowledge, it seemed that fact had escaped him, "That is why you are the last, and why you alone understand how real we once were. Because your blood remembers, what your soul has not known. Thus why you knew us upon sight, though no mortal has captured our image correctly in either sculpture or words."

"That makes sense..." the boy admitted, "So I am granted entrance into Elysium? I am the last to be admitted?"

The god of sleep nodded, "All the rest of us have gone ahead, and soon, my twin and I shall join them. You don't need us, when you did not know we were there before, watching. You have chosen to live, in a world that we can no longer dwell. We expect you to stand by your choice."

"I will," Alex promised, with all the sincerity that lay within.

The gods believed him, and again glanced to each other, as Hypnos took his brother's hand, "Then we go, and will wait for you upon the other side. Your fate rests in your hands alone now."

Small hands clenched at the little glass ball in his hands as Alex nodded, "Thank you. I will do well by it, as if the Fates still ruled it."

Again, that flicker of amusement, before Hypnos leaned once more forward, to give his second, and last kiss to the child's forehead, "Then sleep and dream. Think us nothing more then the whispers of such, last dawn of our dead age. Remember only that your life is yours to live, and that you have chosen to do so, this night. When we meet again, you shall know us as you do now."

Green eyes had slid closed, with his first words, and with his last, the boy silently slipped back, well asleep as he sank into his pillows.

Pulling the cover more snuggly over his chest, Hypnos finally glanced to his twin, "Now we may go. Elysium calls, oldest brother."

"That it does," Thanatos agreed, hand still tightly clasped with his twin's, as they finally followed the way the others had gone.

Come morning, Alex would indeed not remember more than dream images of the night before, and the determination that had filled him through it, to strive to live. The only thing that puzzled him, was how he had come into possession of the small glass ball, containing a single black butterfly. He would keep it with him, all his remaining life, as a reminder of his new strength, as he healed, slowly, and recovered from the edges of death. The reminder would carry him through much, till he finally reached his true deathbed.

As the last of a dead age, he would eventually follow the path that the gods and mortal souls had tread, finally reaching Elysium, and locking the gates behind him, to be embraced by those who had long waited for him.


End file.
